A Letter to Sam
by purplesparkleypanda
Summary: You always told me that you wanted me to write to you if you were gone. You wanted me to tie the letter to a balloon just like in the movies and send it up to god at heaven’s gate.


Dear Sam,

You have only been gone a week, but it seems longer. I'm already writing to you. The months of us being friends have faded into years, like a clock on overdrive, overload, _steroids_. And as I look back on all of the time that has passed, I realize that it seems like my whole life, almost as if it didn't even begin until I met you. Oh and how things change from start to finish. From the beginning you taunted me. We weren't enemies, but frien-emies, vaguely tolerant of the other.

Do you remember when Carly first introduced us? You were wearing overalls, and I was wearing a sweater vest. It was fifth grade, and you had just moved to Seattle. I was jealous that your desk was next to Carly's and mine wasn't because Carly was_ my_ best friend. At lunch we met, but you and Carly were instant best friends, leaving me on the outside. I was jealous of you until you called me a dork, spilled chocolate milk on my library book, and made fun of my SpongeBob lunch box. Then I was intrigued by you, wanting to know more about you, even at ten years old. I didn't know that I wouldn't find out a thing about you until years and years and years down the road.

I tolerated your abuse for a long time. In 8th grade we started iCarly, and it was a constant reminder that you despised, disliked, _hated_ me. But you were truly captivating; you stole the show, the star over Carly. With your crazy remarks, your reckless behavior and the way you danced like an _amazing_ fool. Remember when we had that bonfire after one episode? I remember looking at you, your eyes lit up like stars in the glow of the fire light. We toasted our marshmallows over the open flames. Mine were a perfect golden brown, Carly's were barely brown, and you would scorch yours until they were charcoal black, **burning **them. We talked about the future, how you would marry a butcher, how Carly was going to be a school teacher with four children, and how I was going to be a CEO of my own company. As usual, you ruined the serious conversation by throwing my cell phone into the flames, and laughed and laughed and laughed as I tried to stop the fire. Back then my heart was like your marshmallows, charcoal black and wondering what I did to deserve your burns. I was confused, and life was a constant challenge. A challenge that I seemed to live for. Without you, life was as boring as the lifetime original movies my mother forced me to watch with her.

When we went to high school everything changed. Our threesome turned into a twosome as you drifted away from Carly and me. You were getting deeper, darker, hopelessly into trouble. You stopped looking at me in the hallway, ducked into bathrooms to smoke your cigarettes between classes. I heard the things you did with guys and that you were going to fail all your classes. I had given up on the thought of you, and us being friends during those days. It was pretty evident at that moment that we would never be friends again, and I didn't fight with what I believed to be the truth. But then, remember that night? Remember when you came to my house at 2am? My mother was angry later, but I didn't care. It had been raining and you were drenched in mud and rain, but I didn't care. You hugged me and sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, and I was so confused and startled, but I didn't care. Your new "friends" had abandoned you, and you had reflected on what we all had together, me and you and Carly. For the first time I saw the vulnerable, sad, regretful side of Sam Puckett. And I was starting to figure you out. Finally starting to put all the pieces together; I took you back into my life. And so did Carly.

It took awhile for us to get back on track, but we made it through. Spencer made a lot of carnivorous dinners, and we watched a lot of old iCarly episodes, laughing and reflecting on the past. You changed your attitude, I believed you were grateful, but you were still the same tough, reckless, bullying Sam you always had been. Only, you cracked a smile more often than you used to. Remember when we started college? We were going our separate ways, but we vowed to be friends forever. We made a deal that day at the Groovy Smoothie, a pact sealed with the sip of our last smoothies together, us and Carly. I remember the day I left; it was just you and me. You gave me an innocent peck on the cheek, uncharted territory since our first kiss day so many years ago. And you were glowing, vibrant, radiant, if I remember correctly, as you made it clear that you cared about me, about us. In that moment, it was as if all the torment, the emotions, the confusion I had been through the years had all been worthwhile. It had all lead up to this. As if a light bulb in our minds had finally signaled the start of a new beginning for Sam Puckett and Freddie Benson. Carly told me that she knew all along what had been going on within us, that eventually we would realize what we knew in our hearts all along for all these years.

Of course you remember the first night we spent together; sloppy, giggly, passion in my dorm room while my roommate was away. The room was untidy, unkempt, unclean, but you didn't care because your love was equally messy and awkward. You confessed that you'd wished that you had saved yourself for me, but I didn't mind, because at that moment you were only mine. You were my beloved, cute, sexy Sam(antha) Puckett weakened by my desire and longing for your body and love in return. Of course, you hadn't changed your true self for me. There was still teasing, but all followed with sweet kisses and laughs and laughs and laughs as apologies. I had finally conquered the puzzle, figured out what made you tick, and I was on top of the world, for a little while at least.

They told me that you were so afraid to tell me about it, that I was going to be heartbroken. But I knew something was wrong with you because you were so sick all the time. I felt for you, and I expected the worse but hoped for the best, of course. Despite the cancer, you carried on like a soldier, fighting an internal war with yourself to stay alive longer for me, for us. I deeply appreciated it. Six months to live turned into a year, and in that time you always told me that you wanted me to write to you if you were gone. You wanted me to tie the letter to a balloon just like in the movies and send it up to god at heaven's gate. But I had begun to think that life was going to be normal for us, and almost stopped worrying about it, almost. The day I got the call I knew it was going to be bad. It was Carly; you had collapsed at her house and were rushed to the emergency room. The cancer had spread to other areas, and you cried and cried and cried until I got there. I held you in my arms, not planning on ever letting go unless I went with you. You hadn't told me about the headaches and pains, about this new war that was impossible to win. I wasn't angry, I just knew about what was inevitable when I saw you at your weakest. I'd like to say you passed away in my arms, but I cannot. You passed while sleeping, with a smile on your face, probably dreaming about me or beef jerky.

In heaven the pain is gone, and you are free. Free to spill milk, burn marshmallows, drink smoothies, and eat ham as you please. Even though I was never a butcher (like you had wanted), and we never married (though I wish we had), I do know how much you cared for me (as I did you). You went from that mean girl in the overalls, to the girl who I love eternally in what seems like no time at all. Love like ours lasts a lifetime and longer and longer and longer than that. And when that day comes, and I go to be with you, it will last for forever and always.

Love,

Freddie

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A/N: I was trying my hand at iCarly, and this is what I got. I have a few more stories in the works, but I was hoping to find a beta that impressed me, and knows the fandom before I posted anything else.


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